This is my new story. I am kind of nervous about posting it, but I had to get it on here for some feedback on it! I am kind of loosely basing this off the movie Crazy/Beautiful, hence the name, but it's very loosely based off that. It's where my original idea came from. It's rated M because it's going to deal with some dark stuff. It's mainly about Lucas, but other characters will be intertwined here and there. It's pretty much AU. Everything will explain itself through time, but you should pretty much push all of the background stuff from the actual show out of your head. I have the first few chapters written already, so I should be pretty consistent with getting them up. I just have to make sure I am okay with them, first. And of course, it also depends on he feedback I get from the first chapter.

Anyway, none of the characters are mine, and I don't own anything One Tree Hill.

Also, the title for this chapter is Coma, which I got from a song called Coma by an awesome band named Borne. All of the chapters will be named after songs...songs in which I can hopefully relate each chapter to.

Anyway, if you have any questions please feel free to ask them! And if you're concerned about pairings, just look at my penname! You'll figure it out...

Last, but certainly not least...HUGE and BIG thanks to Gia (Cheeryfan) for being such an awesome beta and putting up with my mindless ideas and constant adding on. She's a GREAT BIG help!

Lucas pushed through the front door of the shabby, run down house, a place he visited often. The inside was cluttered with drug addicts and alcoholics. Most were already strung out, passed out in chairs, or in corners trying to get laid. Lucas never paid attention to the other people. Out of all of the times he'd been there, he'd never talked to anybody, except for the person giving him the drugs.

Peyton, his closest friend, usually accompanied him to the house, but that night she was stuck with her parents, who, just for the night, were trying to be real parents. She was forced to have dinner with them, although, she protested greatly against it. She was one reason why Lucas never talked to anyone there, but not the main reason. He was only there to forget about who he was for a while, and not to make friends.

The dealer pulled out Lucas' usual choice before he even told him what he wanted. Lucas shook his head, telling him he wanted something different. He pulled his hand through his greasy, blond tresses as the dealer pulled out something else, while telling Lucas he would really enjoy it. The dealer explained the difference in what he was giving him, one type of pill an upper, the other type a downer. The exchange of drugs for money was discreet, and would go unnoticed by most. If it weren't a place known for dealing drugs, nobody would know what was going on.

Lucas took his purchase from the dealer, and then walked towards the alcohol. He popped some of the downers. He didn't want the uppers. That night he wanted to fade into a coma and just forget life in general. He would give the uppers to Peyton, who enjoyed being strung out. The burn of the vodka he used to chase the pills made him cringe, but went away quickly. His tolerance to the harsh alcohol had been built up. He slammed another glass of vodka then tossed the plastic cup to the floor to mix with the rest of the trash strewn around.

He found an empty chair in the living room and sat down. He slouched back in the chair, resting his head against the headrest. His eyes shut as he waited for the drugs and alcohol to take effect on him. Coma by Borne blared through worn down house speakers, and he couldn't help but understand exactly what the lyrics were saying. Soon, the lyrics and music faded to the background as Lucas slipped into a drug-induced state.

The tiny space is pitch black, and he's scared out of his mind. He's young, six and a half to be exact. The only light that could be seen was coming through the slats of the closet door, and if he tried hard enough, he could see through those slats. He didn't want to look out there, though. Out there was more frightening than being stuck in the small closet. He sat down and pulled his knees into his chest. The little boy buried his nose into his knees, trying to block out the putrid smell. A smell that invaded his nostrils the moment he walked into the house.

Lucas abruptly woke from his coma, smelling the putrid smell he was still trying to get rid of. His eyes searched the room, trying to find the source of the smell so he could get rid of it permanently. He was caught off guard when a burly man in a uniform burst through the front door. He froze for a moment, then attempted to run, but was caught before he even took off.

"Well, well, Mr. Scott," the police officer greeted him while he took him to the floor and handcuffed his hands behind his back. "We meet again, don't we?" The officer pressed his knee into Lucas' back, trying to hurt him.

"Yeah, I love these meetings of ours," Lucas replied, sarcastically. He was mad his buzz was being ruined. "Why don't you just let me go? You know I am just going to get out of whatever bogus charge you give me, anyway." He didn't try to squirm out of the man's grasp, knowing it was pointless.

"Not this time, Mr. Scott." The cop spoke, pulling a baggie from Lucas' pocket. "Looks like we have something to keep you for, this time." Lucas smiled at the cop when he pulled him up, trying to piss him off.

It wasn't the first time Lucas and the officer met. This officer had arrested Lucas several times, and each time failed to get him into any serious trouble with the law. The man didn't faze Lucas. It didn't matter if he spent the night in jail or not. Lucas didn't care about much that went on in his life.

Dull. That was the only word Lucas could think of to describe his jail cell. The walls were gray, the bedposts were a shade of gray, and the floor matched the walls. The bed mattress felt like lying on pavement, and the blanket couldn't keep someone warm while lying on the beach in the middle of summer. Lucas wanted to act like he didn't care, but the alcohol and drug mix was starting to have a negative effect and he was sure, soon he would have to use the toilet, and he dreaded having to use the toilet.

"You're out of here, Scott." The guard opened his jail cell for him. Lucas pulled himself from the bed, and then drug his feet in the direction the guard was taking him. "Looks like you have someone who actually cares for you enough to pay for you to get out."

"Yeah, right," Lucas answered, sarcastically. He knew who was there, though, and the guard was right about her being the only person who cared about him.

"Lucas, are you okay?" Karen started to check Lucas over to make sure there wasn't anything wrong with him.

"Yes, Karen, I'm okay." He assured his step-mom.

"Well, let's get you home. Your father is up and he's really pissed off," she informed him. "What were you thinking, Lucas? Is there something you want to talk about? I don't get why you are doing drugs and hanging out at drug houses."

Lucas rolled his eyes as she went on and on about his behavior. It wasn't that he didn't care for Karen, or that he disrespected her. No, that wasn't it at all. It was quite the opposite with Karen, unlike most of the other people in his life. It was just that he didn't know why she cared about him. His dad didn't, so why should his stepmother?

The ride home was filled with Karen trying to get Lucas to talk to her, and maybe try to get through to him, but it didn't work. Lucas had fallen into a routine, and going to jail because he was at a drug house had, as of lately, been top priority on that list. Everybody gave up on trying to get Lucas to realize he was throwing his life away, except for Karen.

"Well, hello, Lucas," his father, Dan, greeted him in his usual menacing tone. "I don't know what I am going to do with you, son. Do you realize how much money it is going to cost me to get you out of this mess? This time you won't be getting off scott free. You'll be going to court and you will accept whatever punishment they give to you."

"Whatever," Lucas mumbled, pushing past his father and heading to his room. "It doesn't matter, anyway."

"What was that?" Dan grabbed Lucas by the arm, and spun him around. "It doesn't matter? Do you realize what kind of stigma you are giving to our family name? You need to get your act together, otherwise, all these luxuries you have, will be gone."

Lucas shook his arm from Dan's grasp, but stood up to him, letting him know he didn't intimidate him. Everybody else might crack under Dan's threats, but Lucas didn't have much to lose, or at least, that's what he thought.

"Luxury?" Lucas snorted. "You call living with you a luxury?"

"Go to bed, son." Dan ordered. He turned towards Karen. "I don't know why you go and get his ass out of jail. He needs to sit in there and think about all the shit he's been pulling. He's never going to grow up if you keep babying him."

"Dan," Karen sighed, "he's too young to spend a night in jail."

"If he's not too young to be doing drugs; he's not too young to spend a night in jail. Don't fight me on this, Karen. You're not even his real parent."

"She's more of a parent to me than you'll ever be." Lucas stepped in. He didn't like Dan talking down to Karen, something he tended to do quite often. "Why don't you leave her alone? It's not like she did anything, except care about me."

"Don't give me that, Lucas." Dan turned back to him. "You're not worth caring about. Not the way you've been acting."

"Dan!" Karen exclaimed appalled by what he said. "Lucas, go up to your room. You're grounded, so don't think about going anywhere this weekend."

Lucas nodded and did as Karen told him to. He didn't want to leave Karen alone to defend him against Dan, but did as she said anyway. The muffled voices of Karen and Dan could still be heard through the shut door, and it made Lucas cringe. He tried covering his ears, but the sounds were still there. Not being able to take it anymore, Lucas went into the adjoining bathroom and searched through the mirror cabinet for the razor blade he hid in there.

Lucas bent over the sink and pulled the blade across the skin on his forearm, letting droplets of blood fall into the sink. After making a cut about an inch long, he dropped the blade, closed his eyes, and let the crimson liquid flow from his flesh. Cutting was his way of releasing the pain he felt in his life, and at that moment, it was blocking out the shouting from downstairs. One day, he hoped to get the courage to go a little deeper. Deep enough so that all the pressure he could put on his arm wouldn't stop the bleeding.

Pain radiated from the cut, but he relished in it. He shut his eyes tighter, trying to get rid of all of his thoughts. When he opened his eyes back up, the sink had a pool of blood in it. Lucas began to panic at the amount of blood in the sink, and immediately pressed a washcloth against his self-inflicted wound. It didn't take much to control the bleeding. He put a haphazard bandage over the cut to further control the bleeding, and then cleaned the sink out, making sure there was no evidence of what he'd done.

He left the bathroom, and then dug his cell phone from his pocket. He dialed Peyton's number, and then listened to the rings. "What the hell?" She answered. "I was going to meet you over there, but when I got there the place was crawling with cops! I had to go to that creepy guy to get something good. What the hell happened over there, anyway?"

"Drug bust." Lucas answered, simply.

"Did you get arrested?" She knew the answer already, but wanted to ask.

"Yeah," Lucas sighed. "What the hell took you so long?" He held the phone between his ear and shoulder, and then dug out a baggie from his pocket. He pulled a joint out. He opened the window so he could blow the smoke out, and then lit up. He inhaled deeply, holding it in for a few moments.

"My mother is trying to win the mother of the fucking year award. Dinner basically consisted of her bitching at me for what I wear and not being girly enough. She wants me to be some debutante, stepford wife bitch." Lucas could imagine the animation in Peyton's actions as she told the story of her night with her parents. "Of course, my piece of shit father just sat there like a fucking bump on a log."

This was basically how there friendship worked. Peyton would go on and on about her problems, mainly her parents, and Lucas would listen. He didn't open up to her and tell her about the creep of a father he had. Lucas didn't open up to anybody, and he liked it that way. The less amount of people who knew him; the fewer he had to worry about letting down.

"So, what happened in jail? Did Bubba rape you again?" She teased.

"Yeah," Lucas rolled his eyes, "no, nothing, actually. I thought I was going to have to puke in the toilet and I really didn't want to."

"Ew." Peyton cringed. "So, I got wind of a party out on the beach tomorrow night, you want to go?"

"I'm grounded."

"Since when has that ever stopped you from going to a party?"

"Good point."

"Community service?" Dan questioned, appalled it wasn't a more serious consequence. "The boy was found in a drug house with drugs on him and all he gets in community service? Why didn't they take him away to juvenile detention?"

"Dan," Karen scolded. "I think it will be good for him. He has to go help clean up the beach."

"Can we not talk about me like I'm not here?" Lucas spoke up. "And I'm so sorry, Dan, that my punishment didn't take me away from here so you would never have to think about me. Hell, I'd rather go to juvie than stay here."

He started to walk away but Dan grabbed him by the arm and forcefully pulled Lucas towards him.

"Dan!" Karen gasped.

"Listen here, you little punk, you don't know how good you have it here. You have a free place to stay in a very nice house. You're lucky you have everything that you do. You better start appreciating your surroundings; otherwise your ass will be thrown out."

"Oh, no." Lucas put his hand to his face. "Don't threaten that on me, dad." He pulled his arm from Dan's grasp. "I might just take you up on that offer."

He walked away. They both knew Lucas wouldn't leave the house, though. As much as he hated it there, he did have nice living quarters. Plus, he felt like he had to make sure Karen would be protected from Dan.

Nathan, his brother, emerged from his room as Lucas went towards his. The two didn't get along, and never had. Nathan was Karen and Dan's son, and liked to remind Lucas often how much better they loved him. Dan cheated on Deb, Lucas' mom, before he was born, and Nathan was a product of the infidelity. For years, Dan went back and forth between Deb and Karen, never being able to decide between the two.

"Community service?" Nathan chuckled. "You really are a piece of work."

"Why don't you go shove your nose up Dan's ass some more and leave me the hell alone?" Lucas spoke, bitterly, before entering his room.

"Why don't you go smoke some crack?!" Nathan shouted behind him.

Lucas' temper started to flare, but he fought to control it. He didn't smoke crack, and he never would. It was the one drug he would never try and would flip out if it were in his presence. Peyton tried it once while she was around him, and he didn't speak to her for weeks. Instead of tackling Nathan, like he wanted to, Lucas bit his tongue and slammed his door closed.

"Meet me at the bridge in ten." Lucas told Peyton over the phone, and then slammed it shut.

He slid out of his window, not wanting to be questioned by Karen and Dan about where he was going. It was a short walk to the bridge he was referring to. It wasn't a big bridge, only big enough to allow for people walking to get over train tracks, but it was where Lucas and Peyton did most of their hanging out. The people in Tree Hill abandoned the walk many years ago, and they knew no one would bother them.

Lucas pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one while he waited for Peyton. He didn't like to smoke, but it was just another way to ruin the body he resided in. Smoke billowed from his mouth as Peyton made her way towards him. He nodded his head in her direction, letting her know he knew she was there.

"What's up, punk?" She hit him in the arm. "Did you bring anything with you?"

"Yeah," he nodded and pulled a baggie from his pants. The two ingested the drug; then sat on the side of the bridge, their legs hanging over the side.

"So, what was your punishment?" She asked.

"One hundred hours of community service," Lucas mumbled. "I have to go pick up the beach tomorrow." He rolled his eyes. "Don't they have fucking employees to do that shit?"

"No, they get free pick up from fuck-ups like you." Peyton laughed. "What were you doing staying at that house, anyway? You should know you have to be in and out of there. That place is always getting busted."

"I didn't have anywhere else to go." He shrugged.

"You could have come and crashed family night at the Sawyer's," Peyton puffed on her cigarette. "That would have been fun. I would have loved to see the look on Ellie's face when you, drunk off your ass, walked through the door. She's such an uptight bitch."

"Was she trying to get you into beauty pageants again?" Lucas teased.

"Fuck you." Peyton slugged him in the arm. "She wouldn't try that shit again."

"Maybe you would be cute with a little make-up." Lucas lifted a strand of her hair, attempting to style it. Peyton smacked his hand away. "Why do you hate that shit so much?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Peyton raised her eyebrows. "Do you know what it's like to fucking parade around in front of perverts with your hair glued to your head, your face looking like Bozo, and wearing a dress covered in frilly ruffles, which is all pink, by the way?"

"Yeah, I would know because that's what I do on the weekends," Lucas sarcastically replied. "What do you fucking think, Peyton?"

"Well, you got my point, at least." She inhaled on her cigarette. "Besides, I caught the fucking bitch practically making out with my pageant coach. What kind of whore sleeps with her daughter's coach while her husband is away slaving to give her the luxurious life?"

Peyton threw her cigarette down onto the train tracks below. She stood on the railing of the bridge, the same spot she had just been sitting in. She turned her head towards the sky and extended her arms outwards. Lucas sat, unbothered, still puffing on his cigarette. It didn't faze him that she was putting her life in danger.

"What if I just jumped, Lucas?" Peyton asked, putting one foot in the air. "What if I just fucking ended all of it right now?"

"You wouldn't." Lucas replied in an uncaring tone. "I might push you, though."

"Fucker." Peyton pushed his arm while she sat back down.

Lucas eyes followed the tracks until he could no longer see where they led. He wondered what they did lead to, and if it was better than where he was. One day, he wanted to walk the train tracks, just to discover what was out there. He would walk along them, and not care if a train came, because it would have to stop for him before he stopped for it.

"Lucas, check this out." Peyton broke through his thoughts. He turned his head in time to watch as Peyton pressed her burning, hot lighter to his skin. Lucas flinched from the pain, but then laughed when he noticed the wild grin on Peyton's face.

"You're fucking crazy." He shook his head; still not pulling away from the pain the lighter was causing him. "Give me that fucking thing." He pulled the lighter from her hands. He flicked it, making the flame appear. He held it on long enough for the metal around the flame to get hot, then stuck it on the bare skin on Peyton's arm.

Peyton flinched at first and pursed her lips. Slowly, her lips loosened and broke into a smile as the pain slowly reached her whole body. When the metal cooled down, she pulled the lighter from Lucas' hands and stuck it back in her pocket.

"Now we have matching scars." Peyton smiled at him.

"You're such a fucking girl." Lucas laughed.

"Let's get out of here." Peyton swung her legs around. "I wanna get fucking wasted."

"We're already high." Lucas laughed.

"Just get off your ass and let's get some alcohol."

The music was blaring through the speakers when Lucas and Peyton entered the usual party spot for all of the Tree Hill high school kids. It was abnormal to find the two at a high school party, but there was free alcohol and they were never ones to pass up free alcohol. The party was in full swing, and had been for a while. The house was packed to the limits with underage kids. All of them were either drunk or getting there.

They found the keg, where Peyton poured herself a glass. Lucas wasn't much of a beer drinker so he went straight for the hard alcohol. He slammed his first glass of vodka; then filled another one. The alcohol burnt his throat, but he forced himself to get over it quickly. He began to slowly sip on the second one, not bothering to mix it with anything.

"It kind of figures they would be playing music like this!" Peyton shouted to Lucas, trying to make sure he heard over the loud thump of the bass.

"What?" Lucas furrowed his brow.

"You know, pop rap music. The shit they play on the radio that is all about getting a girl to take off her clothes and strip for money, or better yet, for free. They should put on some real music."

Lucas shrugged in response. He did agree with Peyton, but he wasn't there to criticize the music. He just wanted to consume as much alcohol as he could, and then go home and pass out.

"Look who's here." Peyton pointed her finger to Lucas' brother.

Most people wouldn't know by looking that Lucas and Nathan were brothers. If it weren't for the piercing blue eyes they shared, they would have nothing in common. Nathan's hair was a deep shade of brown, almost black, while Lucas' was a sandy blond color. They were both tall, but Nathan had a few more inches than Lucas. Nathan was an athlete and his body proved it, while Lucas never cared enough to get into sports, and was skinny. Nathan always took the time to groom himself and make a good appearance, while most of the time Lucas just got out of bed, changed into clothes that would be lying on the floor, then head to wherever he was going. Both were devastatingly handsome, but in their own way.

"He's fucking hot." Peyton blurted out. "And I'm sorry that's your brother, but he is. Too bad you didn't get his good looks."

"Fuck you." Lucas replied. "He's a fucking asshole. I don't know how anyone can stand him. He walks around like his shit don't stink and treats people like they don't matter, but somehow, they all manage to worship him."

"They're all robots, programmed to act and think alike," Peyton explained. "And Nathan happens to be their God." Both sat silent for a moment. "You know, I don't get how Haley and Nathan got together. She's a tutor."

"She's too good for him." Lucas shrugged. Peyton flinched at his response. Lucas never spoke nicely about anyone that went to the school.

"How do you even know Haley James?" Peyton turned towards him, still baffled.

"She had to tutor me last year," he shrugged. "Plus, she does date my brother. She's been to our house a few times."

"I didn't think you participated in family things."

"I don't." He shrugged. "But, when Karen asks me to join them for dinner, I do. There's been times Haley's had dinner with us. Karen loves her. My dad doesn't, though. He thinks she's nothing but a distraction for Nathan. Not that I care."

"Right." Peyton rolled her eyes.

"We should probably stay away from him, unless you want to see a fist fight." He warned.

"Have you ever fought your brother?" Peyton questioned.

"Hell yeah," he nodded.

"Have you guys ever gotten along?"

"Yeah, maybe when we were little," he shrugged, not wanting to get too much into detail. "But then he started becoming Dan and that's when we started not getting along."

"Did you ever see him before, you know, your mom-"

"Fuck Peyton, what's with all of the questions?" Lucas interrupted her. "We're here to get drunk and high, not to relive our pasts."

Peyton never asked Lucas about his mom, and this was the reason why. Every time she brought up the subject, he would bite her head off. There were times he would reference his mother, but he would never go into detail about his relationship with her. It made her beyond curious to know what was going on with him.

"Calm down, Lucas," she shook her head, "I was just asking my best friend a question about his life, excuse me."

"Yeah, well, don't." She rolled her eyes, but he didn't notice it.

The two stood in silence for a while. Peyton was upset Lucas didn't want to be asked questions about his mother, and Lucas was pissed she was asking. The subject of Deb was a sore one for Lucas. He always became defensive when she was brought up, and would immediately change the subject, or bite someone's head off. He tried to pretend that everybody didn't know about what happened with her, but truth was, everybody did know.

"Oh, look, it's my brother," Nathan spoke in a sarcastically sweet tone when he noticed Lucas was there. "I'm so glad he is here. You know, maybe we can get some drugs off him. Anybody want some crack?"

"Fuck you, Nathan, I don't smoke crack." Lucas spoke through gritted teeth. "Why don't you just leave me alone?"

"Oh, I would, big brother, but the thing is, I miss our brotherly bonding time." It was obvious Nathan was drunk by the way his words were slightly slurring together. "So, what brings you two losers out to our party?"

"Free alcohol." Peyton held up her glass. "Plus, I really want to watch Lucas kick your ass."

"You really think my pathetic excuse for a brother could kick my ass?" Nathan questioned.

"Yep." She boasted.

"Peyton, shut up." Lucas told her; annoyed she was picking a fight. His brother was an ass, but the last thing Lucas wanted was everyone's attention turned towards them. It was too late though. Most everyone was already watching the impending fight between the brothers.

Nathan rolled his eyes. "I don't know why my mother even cares about you." He snorted. "Your own mother never did. In fact, isn't that why she's-"

"Shut up, Nathan." Lucas cut in. "Shut the fuck up!"

"Sore spot, Lucas?" Nathan prodded. "What? You don't want everyone knowing your mother was-"

Before Nathan could finish, Lucas charged at him and tackled him to the ground. The two started rolling around, all of their limbs flailing about, hoping to strike the other, and hard. A group of people circled around the two, amused by the sibling rivalry. It took four guys to break them apart. As they stood opposite each other, both wiped blood from their faces.

"Get out of here, Lucas. You don't even like coming to these parties." Jake, Nathan's basketball teammate ordered him. "Peyton, get him out of here. We can't have the cops showing up; there are a hundred underage drinkers here."

"Yeah, you better leave, bitch!" Nathan shouted as Peyton pulled Lucas from the party.

"Nathan!" Jake yelled at him. "Quit it! I don't want the cops called! Not everyone has a dad willing to pay for their ass to get out of trouble."

Nathan turned abruptly, then shoved someone out of his way. He went to the keg and poured himself another drink. His scowl faded and his heart leapt when he noticed Haley through the crowd. She was talking to a few friends, and he could tell by her gestures she was upset about something.

Lucas walked with haste away from the house. He wiped the blood from his cut lip with his shirtsleeve. He could already feel his bottom lip starting to swell. His knuckles ached from having hit his brother and other various inanimate objects in an attempt to hit Nathan.

He walked as fast as his legs could carry him, not sure of where he was going. Peyton was following behind him, having trouble keeping up with him. She kept yelling for him to wait, but he would ignore her requests. It wasn't until they reached the river court that they stopped. It wasn't intentional that he ended up there, but it was a place he would go to alone to think ever since he was a child. Lucas wasn't sure why he'd found the place to be so comforting. It was just a run-down basketball court next to a river.

"Lucas, what the hell?" Peyton finally caught up to him. She bent over, putting her hands on her knees, to try and catch her breath. "I'm so not in shape to run like that." Her chest heaved as she tried to calm down. "I really need to quit smoking."

"Peyton, just go home," Lucas requested, "I really don't want to be around anyone right now. I just want to be alone."

"All you did was get into a fight with your brother." Peyton snorted. "You guys fight all the time, why are you so upset about it?"

"I just don't want to talk right now, Peyton." Lucas spoke, annoyed. "Just go home and I'll call you tomorrow or something."

"Whatever." Peyton gave up, getting angry with him. She turned on her heel, and then left Lucas to be alone.

Lucas walked slowly around the basketball court until he found a good spot to sit. The grass tickled his bare legs as they stretched out in front of him. He placed his hands on his lap, and caught sight of a red spot on his shirt. It was blood that had soaked through from his arm. He pulled up the sleeve to inspect the cut. As he pulled it up, the scars from previous cuts were prominent. There were many old scars as well as three new cuts, and that was only one of his arms.

Lucas was forced to wear long sleeves because of the cutting he did and that night he was cursing himself for having to. The stagnant night air was thick with humidity and didn't cool any after the sun went down. It was normal temperature for late June. A musty smell radiated from the river and invaded Lucas' nostrils. He drew in a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill his lungs.

He lied back onto the grass, and put his hands behind his head, using them as a headrest. The night sky was bright, stars decorating it. There was a minimal amount of clouds threatening to invade the starry sky and take over. Lucas felt like he had something in common with the sky. The stars had no power over whether or not they would be covered up and shielded from the world, just like Lucas had no control over his life.

As he gazed into the sky, he wished for one of the stars to beam its magical light down on him and take him away. Lucas knew that was an irrational thought, but he wished for anything to take him away from it all. Nothing in his life seemed to go good, and it'd been that way since the day he was born. He was born into a life where nothing good would ever come to him and he would endlessly be punished just for being born. He wondered if maybe in a previous life he had been a serial murderer who never got just punishment.

He sighed, and then sat up. The next morning he had his first day of community service, and he had to be up early. It was already too late for him to get a decent amount of sleep, but some was better than none.